Free throw
by sleepy-orange
Summary: It's just Jason's thoughts on Kelsi at that last part in the movie.


**A/N: Right. Not my best work, not anywhere near my best work, but it will do. I watched this movie for the first time the other day, and thought that it was okay. But the pairing of Kelsi and Jason just refused to leave my mind, and I thought that maybe I should contribute to the oh-so-small pile of Jelsi fanfictions out there. So, here it is. Enjoy! – nadz**

**Not mine.**

Most people thought that that night at the basketball championships was the first time he saw her. He had looked so awed, so surprised that they thought he looked like a pirate chancing on some new treasure. He had taken off her hat, and they deduced that it was because he had wanted to see her face more clearly.

They were wrong.

He's seen her before, walking down the school halls. He had been in awe of her before, when he had first heard her play the piano years ago. He had seen her face before, had stared and studied it more intently than he would have liked to admit.

Kelsi Nielson was not someone new to Jason Cross, but when he saw her that night, he was like a pirate who had chanced on an old forgotten treasure and seen it glowing in a new light.

She lived a couple of blocks away from him, and sometimes, on his way back from Zeke's or Chad's, he would hear her playing as he passed her house. She would always be there, sitting on her piano, eyes closed, hair loose from her hat, face a picture of peace and tranquility. He'd always felt a sort of kinship with her whenever he saw her playing, knowing that she derived the same kind of peace from it as he did when he played basketball.

And sometimes, he would purposely time his walk home just so, so that he would be able to see her play.

He'd discovered Kelsi about two years ago when he had first heard her play. Basketball practice had just ended and his mom couldn't pick him up, so he had had to walk his way home. He had been thinking about practice, running some of the new plays in his head when he heard her.

She wasn't even playing a proper song, just running her fingers up and down the keys, playing little bits of tune, but he was mesmerized. He'd been curious, so he had taken a peek through the gates, trying to figure out who was playing, and that was when he had seen her.

That would have been the first time he saw her, the first time she had struck him in awe, the first time he had really seen her face, not just in mere passing, but really seen it. That would have been the first time the pirate chanced on that amazing treasure.

Jason Cross had discovered Kelsi Nielson then, but like a good pirate, he hadn't shared his treasure with anyone else.

He'd search for her the next day at school, trying to catch a glimpse of that petite figure, the small features, and the long brown hair. He wanted to see if her eyes were really the ocean green that he had imagined they would be. He wanted to introduce himself to her, to let himself in into her world, just as she had let herself in into his.

But all he could find were hats.

She was always wearing a hat, a different hat everyday, a different colour for a different mood, but she always wore them. He would come to school hoping that maybe today would be the day she forgot to wear them and he would finally get to see her truly, but they were always there. On his better days, he would make a game off them; trying to guess which hat she would wear the next day.

But on his worse days, all Jason wanted to do was tear the hats off her.

He figured that the hats were a way for her to blend invisibly into the drama crowd. Kelsi was already so small, but with the hat, she melted right into the background, causing people to just brush by her without knowing she existed. With the hat, she was a non-entity; she was just that composer girl in the drama club.

And that made him want to scream out in frustration.

Jason knew that it wasn't normal for boys like him to be so fixated on girls like Kelsi. She wasn't the type to fit into his crowd, she wasn't a cheerleader, she didn't play sports, and she wasn't even in any of his classes. But she intrigued him. He wanted to know her. And he wanted her to know him.

He wouldn't call it a crush exactly, he didn't _think_ he liked her in that way, but she refused to get out of his mind. She was always there, at the back of his mind - during class, basketball practice, lunch. For better or worse, he was stuck on her.

So when he'd seen her that night, standing alone in the middle of the crowds, holding the orange ball awkwardly in her hands, he'd acted on an impulse. He'd removed the hat, finally ridding her of the one accessory that had been bugging him for months, placed his arm over her shoulder, noting for the first time, how _small_ she really was, and helped her throw a shot.

She'd giggled, and he had given her a small smile. And when the music had started and everybody started dancing, he had offered her a hand, hoping that she would take it.

She did.


End file.
